Native

The first time my Polish grandmother visited Wyoming, she picked and took sagebrush home with her and planted it in the black dirt of North Dakota. She had never seen the wide open prairie quite like the one we live on. She had never seen Antelope race across the brush and into the distance. She had never seen to rock formations that are all over parts of Wyoming from the days of the dinosaurs. She was in a foreign land.

As much as I hate to admit...and though I don't own cowboy boots, chaps, or spurs.....I am a native. I was born and raised here. My family were farmers. And on mornings like today, when I have just a moment of time, I drive into the country to breath and take in all that is familiar to me. The wide open air. The antelope. The baby coyotes. The fox. The rabbits. I saw them all this morning....and I'm happy to call this home.

Song: Looking out my backdoor, CCR